A Life of Lies
by The Whisper of Wings
Summary: It was a path she never thought she would take. But when all is said and done, it came easily - living a life of lies.


"When did you stop believing?"

_Long, long ago, _she wants to say, but her mouth can barely speak, and she is numb. There is nothing to feel but the emptiness, and the darkness that stretches out before her.

"You were always so strong."

No, she is not. She has been a coward to the end, wishing for the death that will be her means of escape. How is that strength, when she does not fight to survive? How is that courage, when she runs straight to its arms instead of away, like many sane people do? What a waste of life.

"Rest in peace."

Her peace is gone. Ahead is nothing but an endless amount of waiting for the rest, and watching all she has left behind. She was weak, succumbing to the first option available, though to them it is nothing but common murder. She alone knows the truth.

"I…We…We will miss you."

Sometimes she thinks she shouldn't have done it. Maybe it's a wish too late to fulfill, but she can't help it. She has thrown it away, and now she wants it back. It's not possible, she's walked too far, beyond and over the line that exists between what is right and what is wrong. All that matters is lost.

"Goodbye."

She has tried and she has failed. It doesn't make things better, nor does it make them worse, but her heart aches with the knowledge that she has brought this upon herself. Reasoning is flawed, rationality lasts for so short a time. This was done in a time of guilt, not in a time of sanity. Before she can think clearly, the deed is done.

"You were a beautiful young woman, inside or out. May you find joy in your new life."

The shattered remains of reality and the whole, perfect images of the unreal. She has always thought them interchangeable but now she knows. She knows that no one can ever change what has been done. The broken are never truly healed; they are left in a state between the new and the old, collecting the waters of both sadness and joy. Waters passed from cup to cup, and when the rain comes, they overflow.

"In the name of the father, the son…"

So she watches, though she cannot really see. Already, their faces are blurred, their voices are indistinct, and everything is fading. Memories are slipping through her fingers despite how desperately she holds on to them. She has forgotten, she will forget, she is forgetting. Panic takes over, and confusion; it was not supposed to be this way. She should not have gone, she should have stayed, she should have fought this battle, and won. Just a little more time, another chance, and she would still be beside them – these people she is slowly losing hold of.

She remembers.

* * *

_(…it hurts, it hurts…)_

It is an explosion of flame within, burning through her body and fueled by her own awareness. Maybe this is her release, her chance to run. She is a coward, to the core, she is a coward. And she will die.

_(red, it's red)_

Her vision blurs, and her mind is unreliable. It tells her to die, _die, let go, _and she wants to obey it. Another flash – _ugh – _and a distant, incoherent scream –

_(let me go now)_

And her body betrays her, convulsing and turning in on itself, rebelling against her attacker. Her fingers search over her arm, finding the spot, a hole that is small, but the source of her suffering, yes, it is.

_(it's hot, oh so hot)_

Blood spurts, a release, and she feels herself go limp, and she knows it's hot, knows it's painful, knows it's real and not just a dream, because

_(it's me)_

And the world turns before her eyes, she's frozen, she's lost. This is when she decides that enough is enough, that this what she has been waiting for, all along.

_(goodbye)_

_

* * *

_

The earth swallows her up at last, and her mortal body is nothing but a shell. The true girl is standing amongst the crowd, following them with her eyes as they leave, until what is left are three young men, standing apart from each other, and an old woman who takes her hand, guiding her away.

"Let's go, Katherine," the old woman says, the same old woman who saved her and is even now her anchor. But she doesn't turn, she watches the three young men, who reads the newly engraved tombstone of the just buried.

"I lied," one of them says, almost to himself. "I care for you more than you'll ever know."

"I'm sorry," another whispers.

"Good luck, Amy, good luck," the third says, watching the tombstone, and trying to forget the covered coffin that bears nothing but the badly burned body of their lost love, their sister, their friend. They walk away, separate, but as if joined by that girl who now lies deep beneath the dirt.

And she cannot do anything about it because she is weak, she lets them pass with their gazes slipping past her. It's not possible, she's walked too far, beyond and over the line that exists between what is right and what is wrong. All that matters is lost.

Because there is no Katherine, there has never been.

There is only her, the girl once known as Amy Cahill, without a past and without a future, only the present that holds nothing but a life of lies.

* * *

"When did you stop believing?"

"Long, long ago," she says, and she sees the smile on his face, that he will never understand. "But now you make me believe."

"I love you, Katherine," he whispers into her ear and holds her close to him.

Maybe it isn't the same as it was before, because she has no past, and she remembers somehow those words he once said:

"_I lied. I care for you more than you'll ever know."_

And knowing this one thing that will always escape him, that they are happier this way, and betrayal doesn't await them anymore. She has a different face, a different name, but what has been will remain and is close to her heart.

So she kisses his cheek, without regret, but with always the sense of sadness at her deceiving him:

"I love you, too, Ian."

* * *

_As I am relatively new to Fanfiction, any help would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your time. _


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